


Shaky Hands

by PrettyWhizzer (NargleAdvocate)



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Even tho it's not mentioned much, Honestly this just came out of me having a breakdown at 2 am, Hurt/Comfort, It's prob not very good but I'm putting it here anyways, M/M, Mental Health Issues, also it's prob very ooc sorry bout that I tried my best
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 11:07:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11251866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NargleAdvocate/pseuds/PrettyWhizzer
Summary: Hamilton was fine, completely fine, he just was working a lot later than normal, and maybe he needed about 5 cups of coffee to get through the day, but at least he hadn't had a breakdown. Maybe his friends were a little worried, but he could handle himself.... Right?





	Shaky Hands

One moment, Hamilton's hands are on the keyboard, typing away at the essay that was due the next month, the overwhelming feeling of accomplishment and ambition radiating off of him in waves, and the next his hands are shaking and he's covering his mouth, trying not to wake up Lafayette with his sobs, wincing at the sound of his laptop hitting the ground after he curled his knees into his chest. He knew he was going to regret that later, but for know all he could focus on was the static in his head and the insistent thumping in his chest, all repeating the same message: he wasn't as okay as he thought he was.

Gulping down the saliva gathering in his throat and attempting to ignore the nausea building in his stomach, he takes deep breaths and tries to calm himself down. It's alright, he's fine, there's nothing wrong. But really, he knows that those are just lies, fabricated condolences that weren't doing anything but making his vision blurrier. He slides down to the ground, next to his laptop. He can't help the gasping sob that leaves his throat. His nails dig into the skin on his throat and the overwhelming disgust for himself sinks in and he hopes to every deity out there that Lafayette didn't wake up. Hamilton knows he's a light sleeper, why couldn't he just calm down already--

But when Lafayette's hands wrap around him, whispering softly into his ear and stroking his hair, he can feel himself melting against the man. He can feel the world around him again and his head stops buzzing, the pain in his chest lightens just a bit, and he stops being on the verge of passing out. Yet his breathing was still quick, he couldn't feel his legs, he couldn't make out what Lafayette was saying. He was screwing up so majorly, so much. His friend had to deal with so much, why did he continuously ruin every night he had? 

Lafayette's whispers increase as Hamilton's entire body begins to shake, and Hamilton desperately digs his hands into Lafayette's shoulders. Lafayette touches Hamilton 's cheek slightly and instructs him to breath deeply, and it helps, just a little bit, and he has feeling in his legs again and he stops shaking. They stay there, Hamilton desperately clinging to Lafayette, trying to get the world to swing back into balance.

When the static leaves, when he can breath without it taking all of his effort and can swallow without the threat of vomiting approaching him, he slowly peels himself away from Laf. He digs his hands into the carpet flooring and takes a deep breath. The energy sucked out of him, he looks to Lafayette, the way his hair stuck out everywhere, his disheveled clothes, and the worry his eyes, and sends him an apologetic look. The man only smiles back gently, before whispering, "You need to sleep, mon petit lion."

Hamilton glances up at the clock, squinting at the bright light before making out that it was four in the morning. He is about to protest, gesturing to his laptop, when a yawn overtakes him and he realizes sleeping isn't that bad of an idea.

He lets Lafayette carry him over to his bed, and snuggles up against him, his nose burying into his neck and arm wrapped around his torso. He could already feel the guilt seeping in for waking Laf, but the exhaustion prevents him from pulling away and stumbling over to his own bed. He wasn't sure he could sleep alone tonight anyways.

Hamilton drifts off fast, a tiny smile on his face. He was forever grateful he had such amazing friends.

**Author's Note:**

> So this came out of me having an anxiety attack at 2 in the morning? It's basically me venting so yeah, sorry if it's super ooc. Also it's my first Hamilton fanfic, so if you could leave some comments that would be great? Thank you for reading!


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